


i've got fire for a heart

by starkidpatronus



Series: waiting for one day [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Zayn, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, INDECISIVE Liam, M/M, POV Liam, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Pining Liam, Top Liam, degradation kink, iTunes Festival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkidpatronus/pseuds/starkidpatronus
Summary: i've got a river for a soul,and baby you're a boat.baby, you're my only reason.





	i've got fire for a heart

**Author's Note:**

> Second part of the "waiting for one day" series! I don't think you need to read "me, myself, and i" to understand this fic, but it couldn't hurt lol.  
> Title and summary taken from "Drag Me Down" by One Direction.

Loving two people at once is surprisingly isolating. One would assume it would be the opposite. But in fact, because of the way his love is split between both Zayn and Danielle, Liam is torn in half constantly. He never feels like his love is enough for either of them.

He sees it in the way Zayn smiles sadly at him, as if he’s just waiting for Liam to leave at any moment. He hears it in the way Danielle asks when they’ll Skype next, asking when he’ll have time for her and the relationship they are supposed to be saving. He feels it every time he touches either of them, but can’t lean into it.

Liam is a one-person kind of man. He wants to share his heart, his home, his bed, his favorite movies, his best moments, his worst moments, his life with _one_ person. He wants _one_ love, for life, and he doesn’t care if that buys into whatever societal pressure exists that tells everyone monogamous relationships are superior. He doesn’t care. It’s what he wants, what he’s always wanted, and nothing will ever change that.

Which is why this whole situation needs to come to an end soon. Because he just can’t keep doing it; he’s torn in two eternally and it’s exhausting. He hasn’t been able to sleep in months. But he still can’t decide who he wants his one person to be.

Danielle is Danielle, and she will always mean a lot to Liam, no matter what. She was the first person he ever loved for himself, the first person to hold his heart in her hands and not drop it carelessly as if she were holding a pebble. She’s fiercely ambitious and sexy and loving her is something Liam has grown so used to, it feels like breathing. Part of Liam doesn’t know who he’d be without Danielle, as if she _is_ a part of him. But another part of him wants to find out who he is without her.

And then there’s Zayn, who is…Liam can’t even find the words for Zayn. First and foremost, he is Liam’s best friend. That much is certain, and always will be certain, as long as Liam has anything to say about it. He’s never had as real a connection with anyone as he has with Zayn, including Danielle. And sometimes he thinks that that really is the end of it, because isn’t that what true love is?

But it’s not that simple, because nothing ever is, and at the end of the day, Danielle is still Danielle.

“How much of this have you told him?” Louis asks while they chat about it on their day off. They’re hanging out in Lou’s hotel room, drinking beers while Harry showers.

Liam shrugs. “Some.”

Louis sighs. “Li…”

“I know, all right?” Liam cuts him off. “I know.”

“Do you?” Lou challenges. “Do you, really?”

“ _Yes_.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he remarks, leaning forward on his bed. “Look, I saw him the night Danielle came to the show, back in Vegas. Found him in a dive bar, on what had to be at _least_ his third drink. He looked _awful_ , and he was convinced you were going to choose her in the end.”

“What’d you tell him?” Liam asks, shifting in his seat on the armchair in the room’s corner.

“That I was sure you’d choose him,” Lou answers, and takes another swig of beer. “And at the time, I was. But listening to all this—Well, I’m starting to fear I got his hopes up for nothing.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Liam protests.

“How?”

“You don’t know I’ll choose her any more than he does,” he states squarely.

“You’re right,” Louis responds, falling back against the pillows leaning against the headboard. “Only you know who you’ll choose.”

“Actually, I don’t know,” Liam counters. “I have no idea.”

“Oh, please.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, I don’t!”

“You must be leaning in _some_ direction or other,” he urges.

“I’m not,” Liam insists. Louis arches a brow. “Really, I’m not.”

Louis sighs and picks up his nail-clippers, shaking his head. “Well, you should be. This has been going on for _months_ , Payne.”

“I know,” Liam says, for what feels like the thousandth time. He knows, he knows, he fucking _knows_. “I just—need some more time.”

“Time for _what_?” Louis asks, throwing his hands up dramatically. “What more information could you _possibly_ be gathering at this point?”

“I don’t know,” Liam answers honestly. “All I know is that I feel like I’m missing something here. And I’m not going to change anything until I figure out what that something is.”

Louis just rolls his eyes, says, “Whatever,” and goes back to clipping his nails, the snap of the movement filling the room. A little while later, he adds, “Just figure it out soon. I’m not sure how much more of this he can take.”

Liam breathes in deeply and doesn’t reply. He knows.

***

Over the next few weeks, Liam pays attention. He pays closer attention to his love life than he ever has anything else in his life. Pays attention to how Danielle’s hand fits in his, how soft Zayn’s hair is as Liam runs a hand through it, how each of them conducts his heart, but to vastly different rhythms. But they’re still his two favorite songs.

The only way he can describe the difference between each of them is that Danielle is the earth and Zayn  is the sky. Danielle keeps him grounded, connected to everything in his life from before it all started getting so crazy. Meanwhile, Zayn is something that Liam has always wanted to touch, but was never able to before. Now that he can, he never wants to stop exploring this new height.

He used to say that Danielle was water and Zayn was fire. Danielle was soothing and certain, like the ocean’s waves crashing onto the shore. She was calming, the way a gurgling stream is, steady and reassuring and meditative. Zayn was always a firecracker, ready to go off at any moment, if only Liam would light the fuse. He was sparks leaping out of the grate, terrifying and thrilling. He was unpredictable and exhilarating and something Liam was willing to be burned by.

And while Zayn is still fire, with each passing day, Danielle feels less and less like the water she once was. Liam still feels grounded when holding her, but when they talk, all they do is fight, and it’s hard to feel centered or relaxed by something that hurts so often.

“Sounds like you’re holding onto something that’s already gone,” Harry remarks as Liam tells him about it one day when it’s just the two of them recording vocals and they’re taking a break.

“Is that what Louis said?” Liam tosses back and takes a long drink of water.

“Is Louis here right now?” Harry retorts, and Liam just sighs. Harry shakes his head. “I just don’t get it, mate. Why do you even want to be with her anymore?”

“Because I keep thinking I can get us back to the way we were,” Liam answers easily, “and I feel like I owe it to what we are to each other to try.”

“How many times have you said that in your head at night?”

“Too many to count.”

Harry cracks a grin, then shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be in a relationship out of a sense of obligation.”

Liam doesn’t reply to that.

***

Zayn is losing patience. Liam knows this, and so is unsurprised when Zayn demands to know, after coming back from a night of drinking with Niall, what is taking Liam so long.

When Liam explains himself the same way he did to Harry, Zayn challenges, “Is that true?”

Liam doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing and just looks steadily back at Zayn.

“Because I think that’s bullshit,” Zayn continues, eyes narrowed. “Complete utter bullshit, and I think you know it.”

“Oh, I do?” Liam challenges right back, afraid of where this is going, but utterly helpless to stop it.

“Yeah,” Zayn confirms, jaw tight. “I think you know the truth.”

“And what is that, according to you?”

“That you’re still with her because you’re _scared_.”

“Of what?”

“Of this!” Zayn exclaims, gesturing between the two of them. “Of _us_ , being together for real. You’re scared of what it would be like, how exposed it would make you, and all the ways we might screw it up. How hard it would be. So, you’re retreating back to her because that’s what’s safe; it’s what you know and it’s comfortable.”

Liam looks away, his tongue working the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t want Zayn to see the truth written all over his face, even if he already knows it. Pathetically, he tries, “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Zayn refutes sharply. Liam sighs, his shoulders heaving. Zayn steps forward, taking Liam’s hands in his own. “Hey, Li—look at me, please.” Liam doesn’t, until Zayn places two fingers under his chin and tilts his head up. Zayn smiles fondly. “There’s no need to pout.”

“’M not pouting,” Liam replies, pouting.

Zayn chuckles softly. “Babe, it’s okay.” Liam ignores the way his toes still curl when Zayn calls him “babe,” how different it is from the way Danielle or any of the boys do it, the way his voice curves around the word. “I get it, all right? I get that it’s scary. I get that this isn’t what you’re used to, for a lot of reasons. But it’s new for me, too. We can learn about it together.”

“Zayn…”

“You don’t get anywhere worth going by staying still,” he barrels forward, looking at Liam urgently. “I know this isn’t as comfortable with me as it is with her yet. But comfort doesn’t push you to be better.”

“I…I just…”

“Liam, please,” he implores, brown eyes cutting straight to Liam’s soul. “Stop going backwards. Choose to move forward, with me.”

The way Zayn says it, the way he’s looking at Liam, the way his hand cups Liam’s chin so sweetly, he makes it all seem so simple. And for a moment, Liam really is going to say yes.

Then, he remembers the time he’d told Danielle they’d share their future together, and shuts his eyes. “I can’t.”

“Liam—”

“I _can’t_ , Zayn,” he repeats, opening his eyes. “I just can’t.”

Zayn looks like he wants to say something else, keep trying to convince Liam, but apparently he sees something in Liam’s expression that tells him it’s pointless. He shakes his head, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I can’t keep doing this, Li.”

“I know.

“No,” Zayn harshly says, “you don’t. You have no idea how exhausting this is.”

“Yes, I do!” Liam protests, brow furrowed, because if there is one thing he gets, it’s exhaustion. “It’s been exhausting for me, too!”

“Well, at least you have some level of control in this situation!” Zayn’s close to shouting now. “I’m just waiting around, being your fucking mistress, waiting for you to make up your damn mind! It’s been _months_ of this, Liam. I _can’t_ keep doing this. I won’t.”

“What are you saying?” Liam asks cautiously, part of him already knowing the answer.

“I’m saying,” Zayn sighs regretfully, like he doesn’t want to finish the thought. “I need you to choose. Now. Please, just—” He takes a deep, shaky breath and juts out his chin. “Choose me. Or let me go.”

Liam looks at Zayn, this man he loves so unspeakably much, and knows he can’t keep doing this to him. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he says, “Then I guess I’m letting you go.”

Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up, as if he’d really been expecting Liam to give into this. Then, resignation overtakes his features, like he knows he was foolish for hoping for that, and deep down, always knew it would end this way. And didn’t he? Liam remembers Zayn saying something about knowing he would choose Danielle that night she came to the show. Proving Zayn right has never made Liam feel so small.

Zayn glares at him a moment more, bites out, “Fine, then. I’ll—see you tomorrow,” and turns on his heel. Just before storming out the door, he turns back and says, hard, “I hope you two are very happy together.” With that, he’s gone.

For once, there was no real yelling, no shouting match, no over-the-top dramatics. Just Zayn’s cold, quiet exit.

It hurts more than every other fight they’ve ever had combined.

***

So, no more issues. Liam is with Danielle now, for good. They’ll get married and have some kids and be very happy together. It’s what Liam’s always wanted.

And now that Zayn’s officially out of the picture, they fight a lot less. Danielle seems happier, lighter. More fun to be around, like she was when they first started dating.

Liam’s life is back to equilibrium. He has his perfect dream job, his perfect girlfriend, and his perfect friends (sure, Zayn is still mad at him, but—they’ll get there, he knows it). His life is perfect.

So why does he feel so incomplete? Like something is still missing. It gnaws at him, sits at the back of his mind and eats away at him whenever he’s not paying attention, whenever he doesn’t keep it in check. When he’s Skyping Danielle, when Zayn pulls away from each of his touches on-stage, when he lies awake at night.

Tour ends, and Liam takes Danielle to dinner. And she’s still as beautiful as always. And the way she’s been able to forgive Liam for how he treated her is awe-inspiring. She is truly one of the most amazing people he knows. But something is missing, something they can’t get back. Things have changed between them.

And they haven’t slept together in weeks, and when Liam declines _again_ that night at his place, she’s not happy.

“It’s because of him, isn’t it?” she throws in his face. “You still want him, don’t you?”

“Dani—“

“Don’t lie to me,” she cuts him off. “I am not an idiot, Liam, even if you think I am.”

“I do not—”

“Who ended it?” she demands. “You or him?”

“I—I already told you I—”

“I don’t believe you,” she states, shaking her head. “I have no reason to. Not with the way you’ve been acting.”

“Oh, because I’m not really in the mood for sex these days?”

“Not just that!” she snaps. “You—Whenever we’re together, it’s like you’re not really _here_ with me. It’s like I’m still only getting half of you and he’s getting the other half, and it’s not fair. And yes,” she says on a sigh, “the sex is part of it. Of course it’s part of it, because it’s part of the way we show how much we care about each other. And we _were_ having it, and now we’re not, which means something’s changed.”

“Yeah,” Liam replies, “I just got off tour and I’m tired. _That’s_ what’s changed.”

“I’m sure that’s part of it,” Danielle allows. “But we were doing it while you were on tour and I visited, and you were tired then. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that we stopped doing it after you and he stopped hooking up.”

“We also didn’t do it in Vegas,” Liam points out, ignoring the last comment.

“Because you were angry, yes, I know,” she snips. “We’ve been over this—we’re past it now.”

Yes, anger at her was part of it, so Liam lets her believe that part. But not the last part. “Well, maybe I’m not.”

“Excuse me?”                                 

“I don’t think you really get what an overstepping of boundaries that was,” Liam says, rearing up for his turn to lean into her. “You showed up, unannounced, _knowing_ it would start shit between me and Zayn, and I’m starting to wonder if that wasn’t your goal the whole time.”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” says Danielle, peering at him like he belongs in a mental ward. “I’m your _girlfriend_ , and I came to one of your _public shows_. I didn’t overstep any boundaries. And it’s not my fault if Zayn has the emotional maturity of a five-year-old who can’t handle the fact that you and I are in a committed relationship, _which we are_.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Liam orders. “He had every right to be upset. And I still think that’s what you were trying to do, so he’d start doubting me and eventually give up on me, so you could take my choice away from me, which is exactly what happened!”

“So you admit it!” Danielle exclaims, nearly hysterical now. “ _He_ left and you chose me by _default_!”

“So what if I did?”

“I am not going to be second-fiddle to Zayn Malik in my own damn relationship.”

“Then don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Liam says flippantly, kicking off his shoes and sitting down in his armchair, surprisingly calm. “Don’t.”

“What—what are you saying?” she asks, sounding less sure of herself.

“I’m saying I want you to leave, Danielle,” Liam declares evenly, “and never come back.”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

There’s a moment when neither of them says anything, and Liam considers turning on the telly, just to fill the silence. Also because he’s suddenly so bored. He’s never been so bored during a fight.

“If I walk out that door,” Danielle finally speaks, voice dangerously low, “it is the last time you will ever see me again.”

“I thought I just said that’s what I want,” Liam replies coolly.

She huffs a little. “You’re really willing to just throw two years out the window, like they meant nothing?”

“No,” Liam counters, still steady. “I am willing to let go of something that’s already gone. Trust me, this will be good for both of us.”

She huffs again, and starts picking up her things—her purse, her strappy shoes, her flimsy little wrap. “Right, well,” she says, and sits down to wrestle with her shoes. “If you say so. Don’t think I don’t know who you were thinking of while we were still doing it.”

“Please just leave, Danielle.”

“Fine.” She stands up. “I’ll leave. Goodbye, Liam.” She walks to the door and, turning back, adds through tears, “I hope you two are very happy together.”

It’s a bit of a parting blow, but it sounds slightly genuine as the door slams behind her. Liam closes his eyes. “Goodbye, Dani.”

***

The next month and a half is hell.

Liam spends most of the time walking around his own flat in his sweats and wanking off to the thought of Zayn and the sounds he made for Liam. The wank sessions always end with an empty feeling that keeps him up at night, tossing and turning and reaching out for more than what he has. He knows what he’s been missing now: Zayn. All of Zayn.

Zayn is the person he wants to share his life with. He wants Zayn’s crinkly-eyed smiles and laughter, his silliness and playfulness, his bad moods and good moods, his dramatics, his warm eyes, his art, his voice, his words, his absolute everything. Zayn is everything he’s been missing all this time. He had him, but not fully, not the way he wants him. And now, he has to get him back. He _has_ to.

It’s time for a romantic gesture. This is the part of the rom-com where he’s supposed to make a beautiful, heart-wrenching speech that wins Zayn’s heart for good. He goes through draft after draft of this speech, crumpling up papers and tossing them over his shoulder after deeming them not good enough an endless number of times.

He wants to make it _perfect_. He _needs_ to make it perfect. Zayn deserves nothing less.

It’s a week before the iTunes Festival when Liam thinks he’s finally nailed it. He spends the next week tweaking and practicing it. His nerves thrum every time he does. But he can do this. He can.

He _will_.

***

If Zayn is surprised that Liam has knocked on his hotel room door the night before they play the festival, he doesn’t show it. He just raises his eyebrows and asks, “What?”

“Can I come in?”

Zayn may roll his eyes, but he also steps back and lets Liam into the room, which Liam thinks is a good sign. At least, an all right sign. Letting the door slam behind them, Zayn inquires, “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“What’s there to say?”

“A lot, I think.”

Zayn sighs. “Well, you’re here,” he remarks, walking over to his bed and lying down, looking up at the ceiling. “So, start talking.”

“I, um,” Liam says, looking around the room as if surveying a battlefield. “I broke up with Danielle. It should be hitting the papers soon.”

Zayn does look up at Liam at that, but then he plops his head back down onto the pillow. “Sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not,” says Liam. “I’m happy I did it.”

“Well then.” Zayn shrugs. “Congrats, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Liam replies, feeling like this conversation is so fragile it honestly might break if he squeezes it too hard. It never used to be like this with Zayn.

As Liam tries to think of something to say, Zayn snaps, “Sorry, did you want something, or?”

“Yes,” Liam says quickly, “I do. I do want something. Some _one_. You.”

Zayn closes his eyes. “Li—”

“Just hear me out, please,” Liam begs. Zayn sighs and waves a hand, signaling for Liam to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Two months ago, I was an idiot.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Let me finish,” he insists, and Zayn does. “I let you slip away, because I was too much of a coward to be with you for real. You were right. And I’m sorry, for the way I treated you, and for letting my fear get the best of me.”

Zayn arches a brow. “Is that all?”

“No,” Liam says firmly, but he’s a bit wrong-footed, because shouldn’t Zayn be softening just a _little_? “I—I had it all wrong, and I want to make it right. I want to be with you, Zayn, for real. I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“You already had the chance to do that,” Zayn bites out. “Why should I believe it would be different this time?”

“Because—because _I’m_ different now.”

“Oh, what rom-com did you steal _that_ line from?”

“Seriously!” Liam persists, feeling this situation rapidly spinning out of his control. “I—I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” He tries to remember what exactly he’d written in his final draft of this speech, and recalls all his stupid metaphors. “And—and the thing is, I had it all wrong. I thought she was the earth and you were the sky, and that she was water and you were fire, but that’s not true! It’s—it’s flipped, you see? Or—not flipped, but—”

“What the fuck are you on about?” Zayn’s sitting up now, leaning against his headboard as he looks at Liam like he’s yodeling.

“Just—just let me—” Liam cuts him off, frustrated and frantic. “I—I know I can do this, just let me—”

“You may be able to do this,” Zayn interrupts, “but I don’t think I want to hear it.”

Liam freezes, blood running cold. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you already had your chance to treat me right, Li,” Zayn explains, “and you blew it. You treated me like a second-choice for months, then dumped me to go be with your perfect princess.”

“Hey, that’s now how it happened at all!” Liam argues. “It was mutual!”

“Mutual?” Zayn scoffs. “Yeah, right. I begged you with tears in my eyes to choose me and you said no. Now, you want to call it mutual. Give me a fucking break.”

“Zayn, _listen_ ,” Liam pleads, stepping forward, but stopping in his tracks when Zayn tilts his head dangerously. Helplessly, Liam spreads his hands. “I made a terrible mistake, but I’m trying—”

“I don’t care,” Zayn replies, standing up and advancing on Liam, making him walk backwards to keep a reasonable distance. “I gave you my _heart_ , Li, my whole damn heart, put it on display for you. And you threw it back in my face like it was _nothing_.”

“That is not how it happened,” Liam says, voice low as Zayn crowds him against a wall. “And you know it.”

Zayn bites the inside of his cheek, still glaring at Liam, before looking away. “Whatever.”

Liam lets a moment pass and then, softly, he brings a hand up to Zayn’s cheek and murmurs, “Z—”

“Don’t.” Zayn pushes Liam’s hand away and stumbles back. Blinking back tears, he repeats, “Don’t. Just—fucking don’t.”

Liam sighs. “What do you want, Zayn? I’ll do anything you want, please, just—just tell me what you want from me.”

“I’ll tell you what I want, Liam,” says Zayn, and there’s ice in his eyes as he looks at Liam, a coldness he’s never seen there before—at least, not directed at himself. “I want you to suffer the way I have for months. I want you to love, and love, and love one person so much you think you’ll explode and I want you to know you can’t have them. I want you to cry yourself to sleep. I want you to think of me _every_ time you cum, and cry some more when you have to face the fact that you’re not with me in bed. I want you to experience the loneliness, _deep_ loneliness that nothing can cure. I want you to miss me more than you’ve ever missed anything in your _life_ , to feel as if you’re not even a whole person anymore. I want that for you, Liam. But most of all,” he declares, strolling over the door and swinging it open, “I want you to leave.”

Liam stands there for a second, utterly shell-shocked. He needs to say something, he needs to _fix this_ , somehow—but when Zayn raises his eyebrows and juts his head towards the door, he knows nothing will make any difference.

Dragging his feet, he goes to the door. Standing on the threshold, he looks at Zayn and says, “I’m sorry.”

Zayn shrugs. “You should be.” With that, he slams the door, making Liam scamper into the hallway like a child’s forgotten play-thing.

***

Liam is an idiot.

How could he possibly have thought one measly little speech would ever be enough to heal the pain he’d caused Zayn? To win him back? He is _such_ a fucking idiot. He hates himself.

He checks the time: 2:36 AM. He considers turning on the telly again, but the mindless channel-surfing had done little to mend his heart earlier; it probably wouldn’t do much now.

If it’s any consolation to Zayn, Liam is sure Zayn is going to get what he wants, if the past few hours have been any indication. Liam is going to suffer, majorly, right down to every detail Zayn described.

Lying on his bed, Liam shuts his eyes, remembering the hurt in Zayn’s as he listed off everything he’d gone through these past two months—hell, longer than that. Christ, had Liam really caused all that through his carelessness? He really is the worst person ever to walk the earth, second only to, like, Hitler.

They still have a show tomorrow, though, and if Liam wants to give a good performance, he needs to get some shut-eye. He might as well give a good performance; that’s the one part of his life he’s any good at anymore.

He takes a shower, wishing he could wash his memory of the past few hours—no _, months_. Knowing he can’t, he settles for singing JT and trying not to cry.

By 3:06, he’s wrapped a towel around his waist and put product in his hair. He’s lying on his bed and reading while his hair dries, when there’s a knock on his door.

Immediately, Liam thinks it _has_ to be Zayn, because who else would it be? Then he realizes it could easily be Louis, come to yell at him for breaking Zayn’s heart _again_. Or it could be Harry, wanting to offer comforting words. Or it could be Niall, offering to drink with him ‘til morning. Hell, it could even be Paul, checking to be sure they’re all getting enough sleep for the gig tomorrow—he does that sometimes.

Thus, Liam has no expectations, or at least is pretending not to have any expectations, when he calls out, “Who is it?”

“Who do you think?” Zayn’s voice comes through the door, and Liam bolts upright.

Shit, shit, _shit_.

He is not equipped to handle this; he’d already used all his hopelessly-in-love energy earlier that night! His heart pounding out of his chest, he jumps up and shouts, “Just a minute!” He then runs to the mirror above the dresser. “ _Fuck_ ,” he whispers at the sight of his hair, which despite the product, is still somehow stubbornly standing up at odd angles. Probably because he was leaning up against the headboard like a moron. Frantically, he attempts to set it to rights, as Zayn calls through the door again.

“Liam, are you going to let me in, or—”

“Yes, yes, coming!” Liam calls back, giving up on his hair. He reties the towel around his waist, firmer this time, and opens the door, trying to look smooth while doing it.

“Z, what’s—”

“Shut up,” Zayn demands as he barges through the door, takes Liam’s face in both hands, and kisses him, _hard_.

Liam makes a _mph_ sound into the kiss, and for a second he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, too shocked to process what’s happening. But before he knows what he’s doing, his hands are flying to Zayn’s waist, muscle memory taking over. They’ve done this so many times, pushing Zayn up against the wall comes naturally. He knows Zayn’s body so well by now, knows exactly how to lick into Zayn’s mouth to get him keening in mere seconds.

But then his brain kicks in, and he has to pull away, has to gasp out, “Wait, but—I thought you said—”

“I know what I said, fuck what I said, just fuck me, Liam,” Zayn cuts him off desperately. “Please.”

Liam’s mind is trying to catch up with his body as Zayn mouths at his neck and his treacherous hips buck against Zayn in response. Zayn moans, “Yeah, yeah, like that, Li, please.”

“No, wait,” Liam repeats, pulling away again. Zayn whines pitifully, but this is important. “Is—is this just sex or?”

“God, Li, let’s talk about this later,” Zayn says, trying to bring Liam back in for more harsh kisses, but Liam is insistent.

“No, now,” he says. “I need to know _now_.”

Zayn looks at him then, _really_ looks at him, and it feels like the first time they’ve seen each other in months. Plainly, he says, “It’s never just about sex with us, Li.”

That’s all Liam needs to surge forward and capture Zayn’s lips with his own.

Zayn moans into Liam’s mouth as Liam pins him up against the wall. “Yes,” Zayn breathes into their kiss. Liam rolls his hips against Zayn’s, slowly this time, deliberately. “Liam, _yes_.” He bites Zayn’s bottom lip, then starts kissing down his neck. Zayn sighs, relaxing against the wall, content to let Liam do most of the work, as is their norm—not that Liam minds. He likes getting to pleasure Zayn in every possible way. Treating Zayn’s body like a canvas on which to paint.

A rush of cool air hits his lower body as Zayn hooks his finger into the towel and makes it drop. “Eager,” Liam mutters in response.

Zayn palms Liam’s prick in response, and Liam gasps, his head falling onto Zayn’s shoulder. “You’re one to talk.”

And oh, Liam _would_ make some witty retort, but Zayn’s got his hand wrapped around Liam’s length now, and his mind is fuzz, every coherent thought and word he’s ever known floating away on a breeze. He’s reduced to nothing more than groans and whimpers and broken-off phrases like “yes” and “please” and “ _fuck_.”

Zayn gives a particularly mean twist of his wrist, and Liam keens, his toes curling. “Want you,” he breathes.

“Then _take_ me,” Zayn begs, digging his hands into Liam’s hair and pulling him up for another bruising kiss. The combination of Zayn’s touch on his erection, and his kisses falling over Liam, makes Liam lose his mind for a moment. In a haze, he yanks Zayn’s shirt over his head. He doesn’t waste time ridding Zayn of his jeans, either, and then his pants. Usually, they like to take their time, make it last, but not tonight. Tonight, they just _need_ this _now_. He takes a firm hold of Zayn’s dick and Zayn cries out.

“Come on,” Liam gets out between kisses, rubbing Zayn’s hard-on. “Let’s get to the bed.”

“No.” Zayn shakes his head frantically. “No, Li, can’t—can’t wait. Please—please just—here.”

“Really?” Liam checks. They’ve only fucked up against the wall once before, and it was back when they’d just started hooking up. It was still fresh and they were too eager to appreciate build-up back then.

“Yeah.” Zayn nods, still frantic with it. “Yeah, I want it now, Li. Please.”

Liam nods back. “Okay. Okay, just—just let me get the stuff, all right?”

Zayn whines, but releases Liam to let him go to his suitcase and pull out the lube and condom he’d brought on a wild hope this might play out the way he dreamed.

Returning to Zayn, he pours the liquid into his hands and rubs them together to warm it. Zayn is squirming, as desperate as he was the first time they did this. Liam coos and hushes him, kissing his neck a bit, to soothe him. “Turn around for me, love,” he requests, and Zayn complies as fast as if it was an order from a superior officer.

Gently, pressing loving kisses into Zayn’s hair and the back of his neck, he circles one finger around the ring of muscle. Zayn gives a frustrated groan and thrusts back against Liam. “Liam,” he moans, “ _more._ ”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Liam explains, still slowly circling.

Zayn thrusts back again, harder this time. “I want it to hurt.”

They’ve had rough sex before, but this time is different. Liam shakes his head resolutely. “I’m done hurting you.”

Zayn just whimpers and relaxes into Liam’s touch. He knows Zayn’s eager, he knows they both need this _now_ , so much so that he can feel the blood rushing through his veins with it. But he wants Zayn to feel good. Not to feel any sort of pain, not from Liam, not ever again.

After a few minutes of this, Liam just circling Zayn’s hole and Zayn making soft, pleased noises, Liam removes his hand and lubes it up again. Zayn sighs mournfully, and Liam chuckles, murmuring, “Patience is a virtue” into his ear.

“I’ve never been very virtuous.”

Liam laughs, then breaches Zayn’s entrance, making Zayn sigh out a soft “yes.”

“Good?” Liam checks, and Zayn nods eagerly, breathing harshly. Still slow, Liam begins to thrust the finger in and out, making Zayn buck his hips periodically.

“Faster, Li, _please_ ,” Zayn begs. Liam picks up the pace a bit, and Zayn absolutely preens. “ _Yes_ , Li, _God.”_

“You’re good?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?” he throws back. “You’ve got me moaning around your finger, I’m fucking fantastic.”

Liam laughs, tipping his head down against Zayn’s neck. “Good.”

A few more minutes of this, Zayn muttering a few choice curses and giving shallow breaths, and then he’s breathing, “More.”

Liam nods, and adds another finger. Zayn thrashes a little against the wall, but assures Liam, “I’m fine.” Just to be safe, Liam goes slowly, much to Zayn’s apparent agitation. “Li, _please_ , faster.”

“You’re still kind of tight,” Liam responds cautiously.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’ve had your cock up my arse a thousand times now, I think I can handle it.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” says Liam shortly. He angles his fingers, and Zayn scrabbles at the wall. “Hm, I think I found something.”

“Fuck off,” Zayn says, breathy and low. Liam laughs, lighter than he has been in months. At the persistent, rhythmic touch of his sweet spot, Zayn loosens gradually, until he’s practically near tears. “Liam,” he breathes urgently, “come _on_.”

Liam presses another kiss to the back of Zayn’s neck. “Okay,” he concedes. “One sec.” He steps away from Zayn to grab the condom he’d placed on the floor beside him. As Liam opens the packet, Zayn breathes sharply in anticipation. Liam rubs Zayn’s side, murmuring, “It’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Zayn nods, and Liam lets go, rolling the condom on.

Lining himself up with Zayn’s hole, he asks, “Ready?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Zayn answers, voice broken.

With that, Liam pushes in, and Zayn cries out, in pleasure, not pain, he assures Liam. And from then on it’s white noise rushing in his ears and cursing and moans as he thrusts rhythmically into Zayn. “Yes,” Zayn keeps chanting. “Yes, yes, _yes. Liam.”_

“Did you miss this, Zayn?” Liam taunts, and Zayn whimpers. “Miss my big fat cock filling you up? Making you squirm and moan and beg like the slut you are?”

Zayn groans, “ _Yes_ , Liam, _God._ ” They’ve discussed this before, obviously, how Zayn likes to be called names and degraded. At first, Liam hadn’t been sure about it, but since trying it, liked it so much, it’s become a staple of their sex life.

“I’m going to make you scream for me, Zayn,” he breathes into Zayn’s neck, and goosebumps shoot down Zayn’s spine. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, my name will be the only word you remember. Going to make it feel so good, you’ll never want to leave my bed again.”

“’Didn’t want to in the first place,” Zayn retorts, voice strained.

Liam takes a firm hold of Zayn’s member. “Did you just talk back to me, princess?”

Zayn shakes his head. “No,” he gets out. “No, I didn’t, I— _Ah!”_ The last part comes out when Liam flicks his wrist at Zayn’s head.

Lowly, Liam says, “Good answer.”

Christ, he’s missed this. Missed the way Zayn feels against him, how his frame fits perfectly into Liam’s, how Zayn _sounds_. God, the _sounds_ Zayn makes, they’re _unreal_. The whimpers, the shallow breathing, the moans, the gasps, the delicious curses. It’s enough to drive Liam out of his head.

He can’t wait ‘til the next time they do this; he’ll take Zayn from the front, so he can see the pleasure written all over Zayn’s face. God, Zayn already has him thinking about next time, and they’re not even finished with _this_ time.

“The things you do to me,” he murmurs, rubbing Zayn’s length. “Honestly, Zayn.”

Liam angles his hips differently, and Zayn shouts, “ _Ah!”_ Liam smirks to himself and keeps thrusting like that, steadily hitting Zayn’s prostate each time. Zayn moans from deep in his throat, “Liam, God, _please_.”

“Do you want it?” Liam asks, thrusting harder now, faster. “Do you want to cum, baby?”

Zayn nods, whining, jaw slack. “God, you look a sight,” Liam observes, pressing sloppy kisses to the side of Zayn’s neck. “All because of me, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Zayn says, voice high. “Yes, Liam, yes, God. Only you, only ever you.”

“Only you,” Liam repeats, burying his nose into Zayn’s hair as he feels himself growing closer and closer. “Only ever you, too.”

“Liam!” Zayn shouts, and Liam thrusts in, _hard_. “Oh, Liam, Liam, Liam, Liam, Liam, Liam, _Liam_.”

With a gasp and a few more chants of Liam’s name, Zayn is cumming, and it’s beautiful. Liam strokes him through it and kisses him all over his head and neck, even turning his head to press a messy one on his lips. Seeing Zayn this raw and gorgeous is something Liam never wants to risk losing again.

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn sighs, reaching back and touching Liam’s neck. “Come on, baby. Get there for me.”

“’M trying,” Liam mutters, thrusting into Zayn haphazardly, all sense of rhythm forgotten. “Fuck, _Zayn.”_

“God, you feel so good, Li,” Zayn says. “You feel so good inside me. Wish you weren’t wearing a condom, so I could feel you fill me up.”

“Zayn—”

“I love it when you cum inside me, love the way it feels.”

“ _Zayn_ , I—I’m—”

“’Love knowing you’re the only one who can do that, love knowing I’m all yours. Only yours.”

“ _Zayn!”_

With that, Liam is cumming, and for a moment, all that exists is his hard grip on Zayn’s hips, the whiteness in front of his closed eyes, and Zayn’s hushed reassurances. It’s like coming undone and reforming in one endless second. For a moment, Liam can’t breathe, surfing the wave of his orgasm to completion.

And then, it’s over, and he can breathe again, but only very hard, a few aftershocks still rippling through him. Zayn calms him through it, and then it’s really over.

They stand there for a moment, Zayn leaning against the wall and Liam leaning against Zayn, neither sure of what to do next. Carefully, because he figures he has to eventually, Liam eases himself out of Zayn, Zayn hissing with it as Liam presses comforting kisses to his hair. He takes the condom off and tosses it into the waste-basket in the corner of the room. Stepping away from the wall, he waits until Zayn is ready to make the next move.

Slowly, as if preparing himself for war, Zayn turns around and faces Liam. Liam looks steadily back at him. The moment lasts for what feels like years without either of them saying anything, and then Zayn asks, “Do you want to, like, talk?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, still a little dizzy from the haze of his orgasm. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay.” Zayn continues to stare at him, so Liam rolls his eyes and pats the spot next to him on the sheets. Zayn smiles sheepishly, like he knows he should know that he’s always welcome next to Liam, and takes a seat. He’s not too far away, but not as close as he would have been a few months again. “So.”

“So,” Liam repeats amusedly, and Zayn shoves him.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“We _just_ had sex.”

“And?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

Liam laughs. “I thought so.” Settling down, he declares, “Okay, really, though. We _do_ need to talk about this.”

“Mm, what’s there to say?”

“Well, I do have a few questions.”

“Then let me answer them now,” says Zayn, turning in his seat so his whole torso faces Liam. His eyes are disarmingly honest. “I was really mad at you. For a long time. Because I needed more than what you were giving me; I mean, I was happy to just have little pieces of you when we started—”

“You always had—”

“Let me finish,” Zayn orders, and Liam shuts up. “But after a while, I needed more from you, but you couldn’t give it to me, and it didn’t seem like that was ever going to change. I mean, I _begged_ you to choose me, and you couldn’t.”

“I just—

Zayn raises his eyebrows, and Liam shuts up again. Zayn takes a deep breath and continues, “So that’s why I left. I couldn’t keep only having half of your heart. And when you showed up tonight, I was so _angry_ , because of the way you treated me, and the fact that we would already be together if you’d come to me with all that a few months ago. And I just couldn’t get past that. I wanted you to hurt the same way I did, so you’d understand what it was like.”

“I know, and I _deserve—_ ”

_“Liam.”_

“Sorry.”

“As I was _saying_ ,” he states pointedly, “I wanted you to know how I felt. And I know I deserve better than the way you treated me.” Liam can’t help nodding at that, and Zayn allows it. “But—I’ve been thinking, and…there’s no point in either of us hurting anymore, when we could so easily be happy now. I mean, I’m assuming these past few months haven’t been a picnic for you, either.” Liam shakes his head. “And I’d just hurt myself more if I knew we _could_ be together, but we weren’t, and my own stubbornness was the reason why.”

“So, you’re saying…?” Liam asks, daring to hope.

“I’m saying,” Zayn finishes the thought, “that if it were anyone else, I would be standing by my decision a few hours ago. ‘Wouldn’t even think of going back on it. But, because it’s you, and because you seem genuine about not wanting to hurt me anymore—I’m changing my mind, and letting us both be happy, finally. I want to be you with you, Liam. If you still want to be with me.”

“Of course I do,” Liam jumps to say, taking Zayn’s hand and scooching closer. “Zayn, this whole time, I’ve been trying to figure out what’s been missing when it’s been _you_ the whole time. It’s—it’s always been you. It just took me some time to see it.”

Zayn smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam confirms, smiling back. He’s a little teary-eyed, and not even ashamed. “You—you have my whole heart, you—”

Zayn surges forward, seizing Liam’s lips in a searing kiss. A kiss that speaks of years of devotion, and a promise of forever. A promise Liam never intends to break. It’s everything, which is exactly what Liam wants with Zayn.

As they pull away, Zayn tips their foreheads together, laughing softly. “That’s all I ever wanted,” he breathes.

“Well, you have it,” Liam breathes back, running his thumb over Zayn’s jaw. He places a brief, sweet kiss to his lips. “For the rest of our lives.”

Zayn’s still smiling as Liam wipes a few tears from Zayn’s face, shushing him. Then, Zayn laughs, no, out-right _guffaws_. Liam inquires, “What’s so funny?”

“What was that rubbish you were talking,” Zayn asks through laughter, “about fire and earth and water? Did you watch too much _Avatar_ after tour?”

Liam chuckles, picks Zayn’s hand up, and kisses it softly. “I was only trying to say,” he explains, “that you are my whole world, and the very air I breathe, and everything else is rubbish.”

Zayn blinks, no longer laughing. “Oh.” Then he smiles, bright and brilliant. “Well, same here.”

Liam smiles back, leaning in for another kiss.

He sleeps soundly that night, for the first time in months, holding Zayn in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! I'm thinking of posting a third part that's sort of epilogue-y, and some motivation couldn't hurt. ;) If you have any requests/prompts for this pairing or potentially other prompts, I can be reached at thewriternotthemuse.tumblr.com. <3


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